Return Of The Strongest Player-Novel

Chapter 170 A Crude Style: Endless Improvement

"I was wondering when you'd react," Arthur admitted, wiping blood from the edges of his lips. He sat on pieces of debris while immense pain coursed across his body. With the hardening of his bones, Arthur hadn't suffered much damage, but even such a meager amount was difficult to heal.

When Skofnung had been only a few inches away from piercing Gabriel's heart, Arthur had sensed a sudden influx of energy on the left. Then, as if the rays of dawn blinded him, a sword conjured solely using the abstract element of light and heat approached his general direction, threatening to burn his body to bits.

With widened pupils, Arthur had been flung away after conjuring a barrier to sustain the potentially fatal blow. Although he was powerful and did not doubt the fact that he could overpower the two old men, he still needed to be extremely cautious when engaging in battle, as a single misstep would result in his immediate death.

Neither Gabriel nor Feyright would hesitate to pierce Arthur with a sharp object, as the crimson-eyed man had wronged them both. Even while standing before the jaws of death, no man wished to enter the afterlife with regrets. If offered the chance, both would turn Arthur into minced meat.

But that was it.

Arthur simply had to refrain from providing them such an opportunity. He was still confident in his victory, and such a tragic outcome would only occur if he made a mistake. So, all he needed to do was refrain from doing so. The battle would not last too long, since in a few hours, both Elders would pass away naturally.

Their only hope was to detach Arthur's head from his body before that happened, which was serving to be more difficult than they expected.

Feyright twirled his sword in his hands, displaying immense control of his weapon. Gabriel regained his balance and composure, but couldn't refrain from breathing heavily when gazing at the man who almost brought him to his knees; dead. To spite him, Arthur returned his panicked gaze with a gentle smile.

"Shall we start over?" Feyright inquired. Although he hadn't voiced his thoughts, Arthur was aware of the meaning. He was demanding that Arthur reveal his trump cards since Feyright would now be interfering in the battle. The Elder was belittling Arthur's power, stating wordlessly that he was not powerful enough to fight without revealing his cards.

And he was not wrong.

"Of course," replied Arthur, standing up with not much trouble. He brushed the dirt from his previously tattered clothes, causing Feyright to roll his eyes.

The three combatants faced each other, their gazes causing invisible sparks to crackle.

"Y'know, as I observe your style, I've noticed that it's utterly crude," commented Feyright as the three began exchanging blows, moving nimbly across the battlefield. "It's like you're trying to do something your current body cannot sustain. Your movements would be much more suitable for a different body… one that's less physically active."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, deciding to listen. Noticing his gaze of amusement, Feyright continued to speak freely.

"As you strike, you either use too much or too little force," said Feyright, avoiding Arthur's blow with a slight turn of his head. "Like that one right there. It contained immense power. Such force was not needed to shock my muscles, which I assume was your purpose. In fact, your strike did absolutely nothing, and simply wasted your strength."

Arthur parried Feyright's golden sword, allowing it to slide off Skofnung's blade. Then, he curved his body to the side, narrowly avoiding Gabriel's black lance, which was coated and filled to the brim with Sword Aura.

The aura buzzed in Arthur's ears and produced sparks of intensity. Its crackles struck Arthur's ears with much clarity, drawing his attention towards it. Sword Aura was truly a fancy way of fighting.

However, it was not always beneficial.

Especially when one could not completely control its intensity, power, and most of all–light.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Arthur inquired, confused by Feyright's willingness to reveal such information, which could have been utilized to possibly emerge victorious. Instead, the latter was trying to improve the former's fighting style, which he found unusual and inefficient. That was only obvious, as the crimson-eyed man did not have a teacher.

His swordsmanship skills were crafted solely using knowledge from his former life.

"Because you're the most amusing person I've met since Opora," Feyright admitted, his eyes shining with unmasked craziness. "Being more talented than Zeus on the First Floor is a great achievement, and I can't restrict your growth solely due to my personal grudge."

Suddenly, he burst into soft chuckles, gazing at the sky up above. "Perhaps you'll be the one…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, unable to decipher Feyright's incomprehensible words. 'Perhaps I'll be what?'

The three continued to trade blows, causing the surrounding area to be decimated entirely. Not an ounce of even ground was visible in a radius of several kilometers, while most of it was dyed crimson.

"Anyway, moving on…" Feyright muttered, stroking his chin amid an intense battle, causing Arthur's eyes to widen. Was the Elder taking the battle seriously, or was he simply toying with him?

At first, he believed he had the upper hand since Feyright was injured beyond belief.

However, as the battle progressed, Arthur realized that the Elders–despite being on the verge of death–could still exert themselves. That was when he began suspecting whether he could truly take them down.

When Gabriel was on the verge of death, Arthur felt his worries alleviated.

But then, Feyright interfered, ruining the flow of the battle. Following that, the crimson-eyed man continued exerting himself further and further, yet received no results.

'I haven't used my trait, but revealing all my cards…'

He was hesitant.

Once he revealed everything, there was no turning back. He would be forced to finish the two off… if that was even possible in his current state.

A battle he considered to be easy had turned life-threatening.